Like a Simulator for Parenthood
by otahyoni
Summary: Wes and Hobbie babysit. It goes about as well as you'd expect. Wes Janson, Hobbie Klivian, Wedge/Iella


**Author's Note:** Written for **virusq** for the Rogues and Wraiths ficathon. Prompts were cheating, flight-sims, and secrets, which _technically_ ended up in the story, but less as plot points and more as throwaway Janson whining. Oops?

* * *

**Like a Simulator for Parenthood**

Hobbie looked at the person sitting across the room from him, his anxiety increasing the longer she stayed still. She stared back at him with impossibly large eyes.

"I have a bad feeling about this," he said. "Why isn't she doing anything?"

"That's good," Wes replied, standing beside him. "Quiet is good."

"But what if being quiet is just a prelude to lots and lots of screaming? I mean, are her eyes supposed to be that big? It seems like her eyes shouldn't be that big." Hobbie shifted his weight and tried on a smile.

The only reaction from two-year-old Syal Antilles was a blink.

"Look, standing here isn't going to get us anywhere," Wes said, moving forward. He squatted next to their charge and picked up a nearby doll. "Hi, Syal. I'm your Uncle Wes, remember? Who's this?" He waved the doll at her.

Syal plucked it out of his hands and clutched it to her chest. "My baby," she said. She squinted at Janson. "Unca Wuss?"

Hobbie snorted.

Wes's smile faltered. "Uh, close. Wes. _Wes_."

Syal blinked and looked at her doll. "Wuss." She bent forward, and with tiny lines of concentration wrinkling her forehead, pushed herself to her feet. She toddled toward Hobbie and stood at his feet, staring solemnly up at him. She placed the hand not clutching the doll's neck on her chest.

"Syal," she pronounced.

Hobbie nodded. "Syal."

She lifted her doll. "My baby."

"She's very pretty."

She blinked at him.

"Um, I'm Hobbie."

"Hobbie," Syal repeated. A smile spread across her face. "Hobbie Hobbie Hobbie Hobbie Hobbie." Still repeating his name, she dropped her doll and raised her arms. "Hobbie Hobbie _up!_"

He obeyed, lifting her to sit on his hip, and grinned at Janson.

"Not fair," Wes said. "You cheated somehow. Filled your pockets with sweets."

"Sorry, Uncle Wuss," Hobbie replied. "This is obviously one woman you can't charm."

"Candy!" Syal shrieked, bouncing in Hobbie's arms. Before he could explain that she had to eat dinner first, his comlink chirped. He reached for it with one hand, and Syal began wriggling and straining for the ground. He set her down and she raced into the back of the house. Wes followed at a trot.

Hobbie flicked on his comlink. "Yes?"

"Hobbie?"

He blinked. "Wedge?"

"Um, how's it going?"

"Wedge, you've been gone for eight minutes. Are you even out of sight yet?" He moved to a window and peered into the Corellian dusk.

"Yes. Mostly. Iella wanted me to - ow! Iella! Fine - I just wanted to check in. Make sure you were okay."

"We're fine, Wedge."

"Syal's fine? Because sometimes she looks fine, but really-"

"She's _fine_. She's in the back, playing with her Uncle Wuss."

"What?"

"Wes's new nickname. Start using it."

Wedge's chuckle stopped halfway. "Wait - you left her alone with Wes?"

Another voice floated over the comlink, and Hobbie could make out Iella's soothing tone.

"I am relaxed!" Wedge's voice protested. "I just don't think you understand the potential dangers to our child's psyche if left alone too long with-"

Some more from Iella, the words unclear but the tone now carrying an edge of steel.

"Fine. Good." Wedge cleared his throat. "Hobbie, if you need anything, I'll have my comlink on."

"Go before you get in real trouble," Hobbie said, unsuccessfully stifling a laugh. He slipped the comlink back into his pocket and walked down the hallway that led to the back of Wedge and Iella's house.

He found Wes and Syal in the girl's brightly-colored bedroom, sitting around a small table in the center of the floor. Wes hunched in a tiny chair, his knees folded under his chin. A brown stuffed animal sat on his head.

"Hello, Unca Hobbie!" Syal said brightly. "Play tea party!" She patted the empty chair next to her, and Hobbie obediently lowered himself into it, trying not to bang his knees into his face.

"Here," Syal said, handing him a stuffed animal of his own. "You be Baby Ewok."

Hobbie looked at the toy and then smiled at Wes. "I think your Uncle Wuss should be the Ewok, Syal. He has more experience with them than I do."

Wes glared.

"No," Syal said. "He Baby Bantha."

Hobbie snorted, and Wes adjusted the stuffed animal on his head with wounded dignity.

"On on on!" Syal cried, pointing at the Ewok in Hobbie's hands.

Wes smirked, and Hobbie slowly lifted the stuffed toy and placed it on top of his head. Syal nodded and began pouring invisible tea into tiny cups.

"Time for the tea song!" she announced. In a tuneless kind of shout, she sang, "_We like tea, tea is fun, we drink our tea, oh all day long!_"

Wes and Hobbie looked at each other.

"Sing!" Syal commanded.

"Do you think Wedge sings the tea song?" Hobbie asked, the slight movement of speaking almost enough to send the Ewok sliding off his head. He raised a hand to steady it.

"How could he not? He'd be up for court-martial if he didn't."

Hobbie carefully turned his head to look at the tiny drill sergeant sitting next to him.

"Sing, Unca Hobbie!" she demanded.

"Actually, Syal, it's time for dinner."

She thought about this for a moment, then nodded once. "'Kay. First drink tea." She lifted her cup to her lips and made a loud slurping noise.

Wes shrugged and moved to do the same, Hobbie a second behind him, but Syal's voice stopped their cups in midair.

"No! Have to sing tea song first! Then drink."

Hobbie closed his eyes and sighed. He opened his eyes and nodded at Wes, who grimaced, but braced a hand on his stuffed bantha.

They sang.

* * *

"Do you think I should call again before the waiter gets here?" Wedge asked. 

Iella glanced up from her menu long enough to frown.

"Okay, okay. I won't call." Wedge scanned his menu, not actually seeing the items the restaurant had to offer. "Maybe I'll just run to the 'fresher really quick." He put down the menu and half-stood.

"Wedge, sit down," Iella said without looking up from her menu. "I haven't been out of the house in three months, I've hardly seen you in three weeks, and it's my lifeday. Syal's fine, Hobbie and Wes are fine. I just want a nice dinner with my usually-wonderful-when-he's-not-panicking-for-no-reason husband." She looked up. "All right?"

Wedge swallowed. "All right." He reached across the table to take her hand and smiled. "Sorry I'm being an idiot."

She smiled back. "I'm used to it."

Grinning, Wedge turned his attention back to his menu. After staring at the appetizers for two minutes without actually reading them, he said, "Look, just one quick call. I mean, we _have_ left Wes partially responsible for our child."

She looked at him.

"You know if I don't check in, I'll fidget the whole meal. This way I'll be more relaxed. Promise."

Her eyebrows lifted slightly.

"And we can go dancing."

She smiled. "One call, one hour of dancing."

Wedge nodded. "Deal."

* * *

"I don't think she likes the brown stuff," Wes said. 

Hobbie wiped some off his face. "I noticed."

Syal giggled and whacked her spoon against her plate. "Hobbie Hobbie Hobbie!"

She'd eaten her cookie first, then nibbled on the nuggets until they were mostly gone, but the mashed charbote root - which Wedge had sworn she liked - had ended up all over the dining room table. And Hobbie.

Wes cackled from the far end of the table. "Now we're even."

Hobbie ran his sleeve across his forehead, then stared at it, wondering what he could use to wipe his sleeve off. "Even for what?"

"For her calling me 'Unca Wuss.' That hurts, you know."

Hobbie looked at him. "She's two."

"Yeah, now. But what if she doesn't grow out of it? What if, when she's seventeen and I want to take her to a bar or something, show her around the world, she's still calling me Uncle Wuss? She'll destroy my reputation. I won't be able to get a date."

Hobbie blinked. "I can guarantee that Wedge will never, ever let you take her to a bar, whether she's seventeen or seventy."

Wes looked horrified. "I'm not going to date _her_. That's just...and what are you saying? That Wedge doesn't trust me?"

Hobbie looked at Syal, who had abandoned her spoon and was slapping the mashed root with her hands, giggling at the noise it made. "No," he said to Wes.

Wes glared at him. "You have charbote root in your ear. And I'm beginning to rethink us being even."

Another blob of root hit Hobbie's shoulder with a wet smack. Syal squealed and screamed, "Unca Hobbie!"

"You're just jealous she likes me better," Hobbie said, ignoring the brown sludge dripping down his arm.

"Likes you? She's throwing food at you."

Hobbie's comlink chirped. "And you can clean it up," he said cheerfully, pulling the comlink from his pocket and moving into the next room. "Hobbie, here."

"It's Wedge. Just wanted to check in."

"Everything's fine. Wonderful." Hobbie stuck a finger in his ear but succeeded only in pushing the mashed root further in. "Great. You could have warned us about the tea song, though."

Wedge laughed. "Sorry. Everyone sings the tea song. There's no choice."

"So we learned."

"Right, well, I also wanted to let you know that we'll be an hour or so later than we planned."

Hobbie wiped his finger on his already ruined sleeve. "Iella convince you to go dancing?"

"Yeah."

"Good luck with that."

"Hey - I can dance."

"Uh huh."

"I can!"

"I've seen you, Wedge. I don't think-"

A crash came from the dining room, followed by peals of toddler laughter.

"What was that?" Wedge squawked.

Hobbie leaned through the dining room doorway, then shut his eyes. "Nothing. Syal just knocked her plate off the table on accident. That's all. She was done eating, anyway."

Syal beamed at him through the brown goo slowly oozing down her face. She'd dumped her plate over her head. Hobbie glared at Wes, who shrugged and mouthed, _too quick_.

Wedge was saying something about towels when Hobbie interrupted. "Better go, Wedge. See you later."

He shoved the comlink back into his pocket and said, "What happened?"

"She's done?"

"I can see that." Hobbie frowned and turned to Syal. "No," he said in his sternest voice. "That was very bad, Syal. We do not dump our plates on our heads."

She stopped laughing and stared at him, her eyes growing wider and wider. Hobbie held his breath, feeling the seconds tick by as Syal's face slowly crumpled.

She started crying.

"Oh, great," Wes muttered. "Now what?"

"I don't know," Hobbie said. He stepped toward her and made shushing noises. "It's okay. Uncle Hobbie's sorry. Shh...it's okay."

Syal cried great, hiccupping sobs and ignored him.

"What'd you have to yell at her for?" Wes asked.

"I didn't yell at her!"

"You're yelling now."

"Well, I wasn't then."

"Maybe not in volume, but you were yelling in tone."

"If you hadn't let her wear her food as a hat, I wouldn't have had to yell at her!"

"What'd you want me to do? Dive across the table?"

"Yes!"

"I - why is it so quiet?"

Hobbie turned. Syal was gone.

He whirled, trying to look everywhere at once. "What-? Where-?"

"Wow," Wes said, sounding impressed. "We should tell Page about her."

"Shut up and help me find her," Hobbie snapped. "I'll check her bedroom. You just. . .go that way."

Wes rolled his eyes. "She's two, Hobbie. Where's she gonna go?"

The back door slammed.

Wes had the sense to look alarmed. "That wasn't...was it?"

"I really think it was. New plan: you check her bedroom. I'm going to run outside as fast as I can."

"Good plan," Wes said, scrambling out of his chair.

Hobbie bolted for the back door.

* * *

Iella slipped into the refresher, and Wedge whipped his comlink out of his pocket. When Hobbie didn't answer, he told himself it was nothing. He'd set his comlink down after their last conversation and couldn't hear it. He was in the 'fresher. He was reading Syal a story and didn't want to interrupt. 

It absolutely in no way whatsoever implied that a horrible accident involving a vibroblade or rabid slice hound had occurred.

It also had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that, when Janson finally answered his comlink, Wedge shouted, "_What's going on?_"

"Oh. Hi, Wedge."

"What's going on? What's wrong?"

"Who said anything about anything being wrong?" Wedge thought Janson's voice had climbed an octave, but it could have just been his comlink. "There's nothing wrong. Everything's great. I swear."

"Then why didn't Hobbie answer his comlink?"

"Oh, he's looking for Sya - I mean...sithspit."

Wedge nearly dropped his comlink. "_What?_"

"No, it's fine! I swear! We're just, uh, playing hide and search."

Wedge squinted suspiciously at the comlink in his hand. "Hide and search."

"Yeah. She's, um, really good."

Wedge relaxed, managing a chuckle. "You're telling me. It's her favorite game. Once, it took Iella and I so long to find her that when we finally did, she'd fallen asleep. I still haven't figured out how she got in the-" He heard Iella's heels on the corridor tile and whirled to face the corner of the restaurant lobby. "Gotta go," he whispered to Janson, then stuffed the comlink in his trouser pocket.

"Wedge?" Iella asked, coming up behind him. "Ready to go?"

He turned and smiled. "Of course. Believe it or not, I'm looking forward to it."

She slipped her hand in the crook of his elbow as they exited the restaurant. "Just try to relax this time, all right? It's a dance, not a parade march."

He looked down at her in exaggerated offense. "You never used to complain this much. It's because you danced with Hobbie at our wedding, isn't it?"

"He was very good," Iella said innocently.

"It's not my fault ballroom dance is mandatory in Ralltiirian secondary education. It gives him an unfair advantage." Recognizing the small quirk pulling at the corner of her mouth, he leaned down until he knew his breath would ghost against her ear. "Besides, I have it on good authority that you're rather fond of my dancing."

He straightened and smiled when he saw her eyes closed and her mouth slightly open.

"You're right," she said. "I am."

* * *

"'Let's babysit,' you said. 'Help Wedge out,' you said. 'It'll be like a simulator for parenthood.' Did you realize who you were talking to? I'm never listening to you again." 

"You never listen to me anyway," Hobbie returned.

"With good reason, obviously. My pants are ruined."

They stood knee-deep in the creek that ran behind Wedge and Iella's house, shining glowrods into the waist-high reeds on both sides.

"This is embarrassing," Wes continued. "Heroes of the New Republic, and we've been outsmarted by a toddler."

"Will you shut up?" Hobbie snapped. "She's out here somewhere. She could be hurt."

"And whose fault is it that, huh? Who was the one doing all the yelling?"

Hobbie turned toward his friend, his knuckles white on the glowrod in his hand. "You think I don't know that?" he gritted through his teeth. "You think I'm not aware how much this is my fault? How Syal could be hurt or lost or worse, and it's my fault?"

Wes flinched. "Okay, that was a low blow. A misstep in my Distract Hobbie from Images of Mangled Toddlers with Characteristic Janson Banter plan." He looked away. "I could use a distraction myself."

Hobbie felt every bone in his body sag. "Look, I'm sorry, too. Let's just...find her, all right?"

"Right."

They split up and continued their search. Hobbie looked around, in, and under every bush in the backyard for the fourth time, calling Syal's name and listening for any answering giggles. He could hear Wes doing the same on the other side of the creek - a desperate move on their part, as the water was as deep as Syal was tall, and he didn't want to think about what could have happened if she'd tried to cross it.

On his eighth lap around the house, he heard a tiny sneeze.

He found her lying in a hollow he'd somehow missed before. When she looked up into the light of his glowrod, her face was full of guilt and fear. He quickly ran the glowrod over her body, and though it reflected oddly off her lower half, she seemed unharmed.

"Unca Hobbie mad?" she asked.

He knelt beside her. "No, I'm not mad. I was never mad. I'm sorry I yelled at you."

She sniffed and sat up. "I hide good?"

Hobbie smiled. "You hide very good." He laughed at her smug look, the panic of the last half hour erased by relief, and reached down to pick her up. When he set her on her feet, her shoes squelched. He focused the glowrod on her legs, furrowed brows quickly rising into his hairline.

"What...?"

Syal clasped her hands in front of her and widened her eyes. "Unca Hobbie mad?"

Hobbie closed his eyes and pulled out his comlink. "Wes? I found her. South side of the house."

"Is she hurt or anything?"

"No. It's worse than that."

After a pause, Wes said, "I hate it when you say that."

The comlink went dead, and a few seconds later, Hobbie could hear Wes running toward them. The steps slowed and came to a halt a meter behind him, and another light focused on Syal.

"Why are her legs green?" Wes asked.

* * *

An hour later, Syal was safely in bed. While Janson read her a story, adding sound effects where appropriate, Hobbie cleaned the dried charbote root off the dining room table, floor, chairs, and wall. He had to scratch at it with his thumbnail, but it came off eventually. He didn't hold such high hopes for his shirt. 

Between he and Wes, they'd stripped Syal of her grass- and paint-stained clothing - where she'd found enough paint to soak herself from the waist down, Hobbie still wasn't sure - and deposited her in the tub. After half an hour of playing with inflatable toys and splashing water everywhere, Wes and Hobbie were soaked and the charbote root in Syal's hair had loosened enough to be washed out. Her adventures had tired her out enough to make convincing her it was bedtime fairly easy.

Wes's voice floated down the hall. "Now, what did we agree about hiding tonight?"

"Very secret," Syal answered. "Don't tell Mommy and Daddy."

"Right. Good girl. Now, go to sleep."

"G'night, Unca Wuss!"

"Goodnight, Syal."

Hobbie heard the soft click of a door and then footsteps as Wes made his way to the dining room.

"How's it going?"

Hobbie sat back on his heels, wincing as his back complained. "I thought we'd decided you were going to clean this up."

"I don't remember that at all. No idea what you're talking about."

Hobbie sighed.

"What'd you do with her clothes?" Wes asked.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Hobbie said, "I buried them in the trash and then took the trash out. Hopefully it'll be a few weeks before Iella misses them, and by then hopefully she'll have forgotten who was around the last time her daughter was wearing that outfit."

"I'll never tell," Wes said.

Hobbie looked at him and, seeing his grin, couldn't hold back one of his own. "Me neither."

* * *

Wedge slipped through the door, Iella close behind him. The house was dark and quiet, and Wedge frowned, unable to decide if that was a good thing or not. He reached for the dimmer, but Iella's hand on his wrist stopped him. 

"Look," she whispered, pointing toward the arrangement of furniture to their right.

As Wedge's eyes adjusted, he could make out two figures, one slumped in a chair, the other splayed across the sofa. He smiled at Iella and turned on the light.

"_Attention!_" he bellowed.

Hobbie jerked to his feet like a puppet, arms and legs flailing madly before settling into a standing position. Janson rolled off the sofa and landed on his face.

"Wedge," Iella chided, her smile belying her tone of voice.

Wedge grinned at his friends, who blinked back at him in a mix of confusion and indignation. "Syal wear you out that much?"

Hobbie and Wes exchanged a look.

"You have no idea," Wes said.

Wedge grinned and slipped an arm around Iella's waist. "That's my girl."

* * *

_fin._

* * *

Usual disclaimers apply: not mine. 


End file.
